


Vacation

by iluvaqt



Series: DC & Marvel: Nightingale [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Smallville
Genre: F/M, Family, Gifts, Love, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 03:58:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4862231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iluvaqt/pseuds/iluvaqt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chloe and Steve hit the road together. Along the way they learn more about each other and despite her best efforts not to let her heart get emotionally invested, to keep things firmly boxed in the friend zone, her defences aren't enough. Love wins every time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vacation

She had a knapsack of essentials on her back. His saddle bags had his clothing, smalls, shaving kit and toothbrush. And they were on the road. They’d left the city in his rear-view mirrors hours ago and with the wind making the ends of her hair flutter and tickle her neck, she pressed her face into the leather of his jacket to keep the bugs and the wind out of her face. She wondered how Steve managed it without sunglasses. The rush was making her eyes water. Next gas station, she was getting him a pair of sunglasses.

 

They rolled to a stop at a small roadhouse for dinner. There was a motel about a mile further and she figured they’d find a room there later.

 

Chloe hooked the helmet over the handlebars and shook out her hair. She barred his entry into the roadhouse and put a hand on his chest. Steve quirked an eyebrow down at her and half smiled. 

 

“What?”

 

“Ground rules, we didn’t make any. We take turns getting the check, we split the room bill and I pay for gas, you pay for road snacks. No one takes the couch and anyone can pull the plug at any time, no hard feelings. Are we good?”

 

Steve raised his arm, his hand finding the back of his neck while he frowned down at her. “I’m not…”

 

She put a finger to his lips. “If the next words out of your mouth are going to be I’m not used to that, or I’m not comfortable with that, I’ll catch the next bus back. Steve, I’m not your girlfriend, your wife or your sister. You don’t need to take care of me. I can pay my own way. I don’t like owing favors. We’re just two friends enjoying some down time, right?”

 

Steve dropped his arm. “Right,” he said softly.

 

Chloe nodded, satisfied that was the closest she was going to get in the way of agreement from him and told herself to let it go. She also tried not to read too much into the sound of his voice or the brief shadow of disappointment that seemed to show on his face. She was being cautious. She liked Steve, he was sincere and thoughtful. He was a great listener and he was charming. It also hadn’t escaped her attention that he was handsome. Her heart skipped a beat when his eyes caught hers. It would be all too easy to fall hard and fast for him. She needed to slow things down. Sure she knew how he moved, the foods he liked to eat, a few of his war stories and how he would plan and execute a mission but she didn’t know what he dreamt about, or what he looked for in a partner. Or even if they could survive in a room together with nothing but quiet and nowhere to be or anything demanding their attention. A week in they might be completely sick of each others company and want out. She needed to know she could survive this experience with her heart intact and also still have him as a friend. 

 

She’d done Co-Ed trips before. She’d spent a summer or two on base with Lois surrounded by other army brats and recruits. She had also had two males for best friends for majority of her high school years. She could handle travelling with Steve for two weeks. They’d spent six weeks together before with only each other for company. Granted it wasn’t for every waking moment, but near enough. She just needed to get into that mindset again. Of course she’d try to dial back the urge to order him around. But she was so used to bossing everyone in her radius that adjustment might be tougher to make. 

 

“What do you want for dinner?”

 

Chloe opened her mouth to protest that he’d gotten the gas so it was her turn, but his fingers on her cheek right over the three moles where her skin was extra sensitive stole all the breath from her lungs. She blinked up at him as he casually tucked her grimy, wind blown, dusty hair behind her ear. 

 

He leaned in close and it was only when his lips brushed her temple and he pulled back that she caught his disarming, confident smile that had been missing since she’d put her foot down outside. “I called it first. You can get the next stop. Let a guy treat his girl to dinner, okay?”

 

Chloe forced her tongue to work, and wet her lips while she got her brain to articulate an appropriate response that didn’t involve pushing him into the nearest booth and answering the way his eyes were lingering on her mouth. “We’re in the middle of rural nowhere, I’d have no idea. I grew up a big city girl.”

 

He took her hand and lead her to an open table, where he sat down after she did. “I didn’t leave New York till I joined the war effort, and you really don’t want to rely on my culinary experience. We weren’t given a lot of options out there, whenever we ran out of rations we ate whatever we could. I think it was a boiled egg and cabbage broth once. In China, I ate eel. And I don’t think I could ever stomach it again.”

 

Chloe shivered and dry retched at the thought. “I’m not a huge fan of seafood period. Allergic to crustaceans actually.”

 

Steve looked concerned. “How bad are we talking?”

 

“Hives, puffy lips, eyes welling up, welts, basically whatever part of me it comes into contact with. Generally I avoid the wharf and fish markets and we’re good. Open a bag of prawn crisps next to me and my airways start closing up.”

 

“I’ll be sure to remember that.”

 

“What about you?” she asked bouncing in her seat a putting her elbows on the table. She tilted her head and regarded him thoughtfully. “Anything I need to know not to order? Allergies, severe aversions.”

 

Steve shook his head. “I was raised on a pretty simple menu, lots of different kinds of soups and stews with bread. Although once a month, mom would go all out with a full fry up. I wouldn’t be able to move for an hour afterward but it was pretty amazing. I looked forward to those...” he trailed off and his face fell, he looked down at his hands. After a moment he met her eyes again. “Then she got sick, and between looking after her and trying to keep myself well enough to look out for the both of us, it just didn’t seem important or anything special anymore, you know.”

 

Chloe felt her throat close up at the anguish in his eyes. She’d read that he’d lost both of his parents before trying to enlist. His father died while serving in the First War and his mother died of Tuberculosis just months before he signed up for the Super Soldier Program. She understood what it was like to struggle on your own when you were still trying to figure out what to do with your life. Having no one to guide you or be your safety net but she could only imagine the hardships and isolation he must have had to face during that uncertain and scary period of the world’s history. She reached over and squeezed his hand. “I’m sure you did the best you could, Steve.”

 

He turned his hand under hers and held her hand in his. “Thanks, Chloe.” He let his fingers fall away and withdrew, picking up the menu on the end of the table. “So, before I completely kill the mood, how about it? Let’s just take a shot in the dark.” He scanned the menu. “And none of these make any sense to me. What’s pig in a poke and I don’t think I want to know what spicy crow really is.”

 

Steve fell quiet and Chloe glanced up from looking through the burger list. She thought he might comment on all the menu items and she was hoping to find out what kind of comment he might make about the dessert called Original Sin. The tops of his ears were red. “Find something you like?”

 

“How can they put that on the menu? Isn’t this a family friendly establishment.”

 

“I think sin is a universally understood noun they teach from Sunday School, Steve.”

 

He blinked at her quickly and she wondered if she’d shock him further. 

 

“Number 14.”

 

Chloe scanned across. Fucking Devilled Eggs and Toast. Her lips trembled and a burst of giggles escaped. “I’m pretty sure that’s a typo. Could be Funky they were going for…” at his dubious look, she giggled again before long she found she couldn’t stop.

 

Wiping tears from her eyes, she watched him wave over a waitress. “I think I’ll go for the plain regular BLT burger, please.”

 

“A regular beef burger for me, thanks,” Chloe managed between hiccups. 

 

After the waitress left, Steve tried to glare at her but ended up smiling himself. “Are you done?”

 

“Maybe… I really don’t know,” she said smiling so widely her cheeks ached. “Do you feel like some Original Sin for dessert?” As she suspected he looked like all the emotions on monitor duty had gone offline from surprise. 

 

Then he blinked, and shook his head at her. “Innuendo will get you into trouble, Ma’am.”

 

She leaned forward and drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “What have I warned you about, calling me that?”

 

Steve gulped and watched her wearily. “You’re not my CO anymore.”

 

Chloe winked at him. “But I do know where you’ll be sleeping tonight.” 

 

::: ::: :::

 

It was an empty threat. She enjoyed teasing him. He never failed to raise to her baiting and react exactly how she thought he would. It was like hanging around teen Clark all over again. He was a little naïve and transparent. He’d make a terrible spy probably a worse journalist too, he had no word play talent.

 

They pulled up to a motel and Chloe beat him to the check-in desk. She got the only room they had left with two doubles. Sure it would have been cheaper to get one double but she didn’t want to give him too many coronaries in one day. The poor man had probably been given enough culture shock for the time being. And she didn’t trust her will power not to jump the pillow boundary if they did share a bed.

 

He let her have the bathroom first, and she had a quick shower and washed her hair. She changed into her pjs and after brushing her teeth, she gathered her toiletry bag and opened the door. He was going through one of the saddlebags and she noticed he had plugged in her laptop which she’d left out.

 

“You found my charger?” she asked.

 

He nodded. “I don’t remember you putting it in there, but it was in the right saddle bag.”

 

Chloe rubbed her hair dry with a towel and then hung it over the back of the plastic chairs near the heater. “I remembered it was in my work bag the last second and didn’t have any more space to stuff it. Thanks for that. You can use it if you need to by the way. It isn’t my work computer so it’s just a simple password. I never go anywhere without my phone and a computer, they always come in handy.”

 

Steve shrugged and squeezed his neck. “I’ll take your word for it.”

 

Chloe bit down on her bottom lip. Steve had two tells that she’d noticed. When he was uncertain or troubled, he rubbed his neck. And when he was embarrassed the tops of his ears went red. Lois would clean him out in poker. She glanced at her PJs. Speaking of her cousin, Lois had bought her these flannel bottomed Frozen set as a gag gift last Christmas. Lois loved cosplay and she’d dragged Chloe to a Con in Chicago two years ago and dressed them up as the Frozen sisters, Anna and Elsa. Lois had made her dress as Elsa of course saying it matched her complexion better, also she wasn’t the playful cousin. Chloe had thrown the wigs at her for that comment. She could be playful if she wanted. It wasn’t her choice to be a meteor freak and have to worry about some mad scientist or morally corrupt billionaire finding out about her and dissecting her, that it put a dampener on her once upbeat attitude to life. 

 

Speaking of her freakish talent. It had started going wonky lately. Ever since she’d kissed Steve, she’d started taking careful notes about anything abnormal going on. Following their last training exercise, when she’d passed out a after breaking several bones and suffering a mild concussion, she had noticed she healed a lot quicker than she thought she would have. Of course she’d been able to explain it away through new meds she was experimenting with for her migraines, she’d suffered from since she was a child - sort of true, she wasn’t on any medication that worked - Maria backed her up and Dr. Simmons had let the matter drop. But Chloe knew that broken bones had taken a lot longer than two weeks to heal in the past. She remembered from having to wear that cumbersome brace after breaking her arm and snapping her collarbone falling from Lex’s Mansion.

 

Steve watched Chloe move around the room from the corner of his eye. He tried not to notice how young she looked out of her S.H.I.E.L.D jumpsuit, or the many layers of clothing she usually wore from day to day. The thin snowflake covered PJ bottoms hugged her legs every time she moved and it was difficult to tear his eyes away from her perfectly shaped bottom. The few occasions he’d seen Peggy in slacks had been highly distracting but this was a new level of visual temptation/distraction he needed to fight. With a herculean effort, he focused on gathering his bathroom essentials and paused with his hand over his clothing bag. What to wear? Post serum he always ran warm, hotter when he slept too. He usually slept in the buff, or with a pair of underwear. He couldn’t very well do that with company. Why in Sam Hill did he only just remember this now? Because the only company he’d had to worry about in the past were the Commandos and they all slept and stripped down however and whenever they pleased without regard for who was around. He remembered Dugan stripping off and diving in the Riviera, paying no mind to shrieking locals. One mother, shielding her twin daughters’ eyes. Steve chuckled inwardly at the memory. They had been on the road for a week, boots covered in mud, clothing practically crusted over. They were all dirty and tired but constantly on the move because the area was rife with enemy troops. Pinkerton and Bucky had followed Dugan’s lead but the rest of them were more sedate in only removing their boots and socks. Although Bucky had giving him the half smirk before disappearing underwater. Strong hands clamped around his ankles and before he knew it, he was head underwater.

 

They’d shared dry clothing after that. Bucky had worn the thermal long johns and Steve had worn the outer pants. He’d taken the shirt and Bucky had worn the jacket. They’d found a farm house with a barn to hold up in for the night and the owners, a kindly elderly couple had washed and dried out all their clothing, feeding them too before sending them on the next day. 

 

Drawing out a fresh pair of underwear and black sweats, he shoved his shower bag under his arm and went to use the bathroom. Chloe was fast asleep in the bed by the wall, he took the bed closest to the door but not before checking the door alarm she’d stuck on the top of the door frame that would warn them if someone tried to open it while they were sleeping.

 

She was facing away from him but he could tell she was already sleeping from her soft breathing. He couldn’t help smiling. He’d never seen her look so relaxed. She was always moving or talking, it was nice to see her still and peaceful. He was struck again over how young she looked. It was hard to fathom that she was 27-years-old. To him she could pass for a high school student. Especially like this, when there were no lines of focused concentration or worry marring her brow, and her eyes were closed. Chloe’s eyes held a seriousness and maturity far beyond her years. As though she were an old soul and had seen far too much to have any innocence left. A muscle twinged in his chest. He worried over what she might have been through to make her so cautious and guarded. She was quick-witted, good humored when the situation didn’t call for strict professionalism but when she smiled, it was always slow in blooming. Like she was waiting for the bottom to fall away, for the moment of happiness to fade. She wouldn’t invest herself too deeply in anything that involved emotions. 

 

He sat on the edge of his bed and before he climbed under the covers he wondered if he could get her to let down her walls. If she would trust him not to hurt her. Every time he shared his past with her, he hoped she would do the same, but she rarely talked about anything personal. Sure she told him things she enjoyed doing, or pet peeves she had. But what he knew about her life were fragments, throwaway comments she had made and he’d filed away the information he gleaned to try to build a picture of fuller picture of who Chloe Sullivan was.

 

Her parents weren’t a part of her life. When she talked about family, he got the impression that she wasn’t close to her birth parents but she did have a motherly influence in her life. Someone she only referred to as Martha. There was a cousin, more like a sister whom she had gotten into all kinds of mischief with growing up. The cousin had become a journalist, the career that Chloe had dreamed for herself as a kid. She only ever shared when it was in answer to a direct question. She was always honest in that way, but she wouldn’t give more than required or ever volunteer personal information. Except for the one phone call that lead to this shared vacation where he had overheard her talking to someone, the voice he couldn’t identify but felt familiar. It suddenly clicked for him. 

 

Chloe worked with powered individuals. Other super-powered heroes. The caped reference. Everything suddenly fell into place. Chloe came from Metropolis. She had mentioned that she grew up a city girl and had studied at Met U, completing a degree in journalism. There was only one caped protector in Metropolis that carried himself with a regal confidence and was publically known. Superman. Chloe was on friendly, teasing terms with Superman. Well that wasn’t intimidating at all. And how long had they known each other? If he went over more of the conversation he’d heard, the man called Impulse had implied that Superman knew Chloe’s passcode for her phone. Just how close were they?

 

Plumping up his pillow and curling it under his neck he faced her and tried to relax enough to sleep. But sleep wouldn’t come. Even after he kicked off all the blankets and just lay there in his pants it was too warm to be comfortable. He couldn’t fall asleep. He tried turning off the heater, but that didn’t help because he saw goose pimples on Chloe’s skin and she tried to burrow deeper but didn’t draw up the blankets. And he didn’t know how to pull them up without brushing against her naked skin. The last thing they needed was him looming over her, and Chloe waking to his touch believing he was trying to put moves on her while she was unaware.

 

He lay there for what could have been hours counting cobwebs, staring at the abstract wallpaper till strange images started to jump out of the seemingly random swirls of color but he still couldn’t fall asleep. Finally he convinced himself that if she woke up before him, and started moving around the room, he’d just feign sleep until she went to the bathroom and then pull on his pants again. With swift decisiveness, he shucked off his underwear and pants and tossed them on the side table next to the bed. Normally he would have folded his clothes neatly but he was so tired he was impressed he’d even managed to pull the covers up. He was hot enough that he would have happily slept where he fell.

 

The toilet flushing woke him up with a start the next morning. He blinked. He felt the sheet was bunched low around his hips, one ankle was exposed, his right foot off the bed. He turned his head, feeling his hair sticking up on one side. Chloe’s bed was empty and already neatly made. Crap. He sat up and reached for his pants. He stood up and tried to pull his underwear out of the pants, trying to hurry and make the most of her absence. Damn things were deeply buried and tangled down one of the pant legs and it was like try to drag a leaf out of quicksand. Every time he thought he had it, he was tangling it up worse in those blasted sweatpants. That’d teach him never to slack on being orderly. His mother taught him to pick up after himself and always put things in their place.

 

“You’ll always know exactly what you have and where to find things if you put everything where it’s supposed to live,” she chided him. 

 

It was grilled into him so often that whenever she saw a stray shoe in the doorway, or a sock that missed the laundry hamper, he would dash to fix the error before she could finish calling for him.

 

The door cracked open and he whirled holding his pants to his crotch. But he obviously hadn’t been quick enough.

 

Chloe came out of the bathroom and clamped a hand over her eyes at the sight of Steve’s glorious naked behind. “Sorry,” she shrieked and turned quickly to retreat back into the bathroom. Only to smack right into the door jam. “Ow! Shit.”

 

Steve heard how hard she’d smack into the wood and forgot about the pants. He caught her shoulders and steered her properly into the bathroom, sitting her on the toilet cover. “You’re bleeding.”

 

Chloe peaked through her fingers and got an eyeful of his manhood. And blushed brighter than a raspberry. “Could you put some pants on first. I might lose an eye to go along with the cut on my forehead.”

 

Steve snorted, but did as he was told. He grabbed the pants and shook them upside down, easily finding the elusive underwear and pulling them on. He didn’t know why he didn’t think to do that in the first place. He could only blame a freak panic moment. Which was ridiculous. The amount of times he’d been poked, prodded, ordered to strip down in front of groups of people, granted they were all scientists and medical professionals, but he shouldn’t be embarrassed about it anymore. Perhaps it was because he cared about what Chloe thought about him. He wanted to do things right with her. He wanted her to like him. No damn it, he wanted her to more than like him. He put his hands on his hips and breathed, counting slowly before he went to retrieve the medical kit from one of his bags. By the time he came back to her, she had torn bits of toilet paper off and had pressed it against her head. 

 

He gingerly got her to pull her hand away. It was already swelling and bruising. There was also a thin split from her hairline, halfway to her left eyebrow. It wasn’t deep but it could do with a couple fine stitches.

 

“I have field med training but if you don’t want it to scar, I should take you to a clinic.”

 

Chloe shook her head. “I’m not great with doctors. If you can find me a table mirror I could do it myself.”

Steve frowned. It was a tricky spot to get at on someone else, but to do it yourself. First her hair was flopping in the way and secondly, it was on an angle and she would have to look at in the mirror out of the corner of her eye. He decided to bite the bullet, and offer again.

 

“I’ll do it. If we get a good healing salve, it might not scar at all.”

 

Chloe beamed at him like she’d been waiting for him to man up all along. “I have miracle cream. Lois swears by it. She’s had plenty of scrapes over the years, even broke her leg while skiing in Middle School. The bone went right through but she barely has a scar.”

 

“So Lois is the infamous, Army brat cousin?” he probed, while he unpacked the supplies he needed from the kit. 

 

Chloe lifted her chin and flicked her hair at his obviousness. She smiled slyly. “Yes, you want to meet her?”

 

Steve froze with a deer in headlights look. She was volunteering for him to meet her family. “I’d be honoured,” he said sincerely.

 

Chloe smiled. “Just remember you said that.” 

 

Lois rubbed shoulders with the powerful, the rich and celebrity all the time, but she was a huge Captain America fan girl. Lois didn’t know much about her work, only that she worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. However she had made a standing request that if Chloe ever got the chance to meet the Captain and could make an introduction, that her little cousin could have anything she wanted, it didn’t matter how outlandish the request. Chloe had debated long and hard over whether it would be fair to Steve to unleash Lois on him. But she had concluded that if Steve was curious, and open to the idea, she’d arrange the meet to happen. 

 

Poor Steve, he didn’t know what he was in for. Lois was a force of nature. She called it as she saw it and she only hoped Steve was ready for the lasting impact Lois could leave in her wake. 

 

::: ::: :::

 

They spent the day by the lake. Steve tried to teach Chloe how to fish, but gave up after she refused to bait her hooks. The stuff smelled to high heaven and she pointed out that there was no ingredients label. There could be all manner of things in there, probably prawn paste too.

 

Steve couldn’t argue her point, so he let it go. Chloe went back to her book, and Steve returned to his line watching.

 

Later that afternoon Steve had stood up to get the mother of all cramps. He tried to stretch it out but couldn't manage it. Chloe helped him get his boot off but he protested her rolling down his socks. 

"I got it," he said, pulling his foot away and hopping. The grimace on his face told her he really didn't.

"You need to be able to see your toes?" she argued. "Or you won't be able to pull the offending sucker into line."

He wanted to laugh at her reasoning but he wasn't having much luck getting his muscles to cooperate and there was also no chance off him pulling her sock off with Chloe hovering there either. "The socks stay on," he ground out. 

"Suit yourself," she said blithely. "I'll just bring everything back to our room shall I. See you there, hop along." She calmly collected all their supplies and the rods and when back to the motel. It was only about five minutes walk but Steve felt totally useless and ridiculous, carrying his boot and limping along in his sock.

He hobbled into the room and set his boots by the door. She had a wash cloth in one hand and two golden spiked, scary looking balls in the other. "Strip and lay down on the bed."

"Why?" he asked, his ears burning. 

Chloe rolled her eyes and came over to nudge him with her shoulder. "You've been sitting in the one spot for three hours. You're not the type to sit for that long. Your body's protesting. Now pants off. Socks too, and you're not going to offend me with your supposedly smelly feet. Size 13 farmer work boots give off a worse smell than anything you can hit me with. And besides, that's what this is for," she said waving the wash cloth. "Now stop stalling."

She turned around as a show of preserving his modesty. What little he had left, he'd flashed her pretty spectacularly already. He took off his dungarees and his socks and lay face down on the bed. 

A towel came over his lower half and he was grateful that she wouldn't have his white briefs blinding her while she did whatever she had planned with those spiked torture looking devices. He trusted her though. Implicitly and it wasn't as those he could be seriously hurt by them. Even though they looked very pointy and sharp, he doubled they break his thick skin.

She wiped his feet, even cleaning between his toes and he found himself feeling refreshed and more relaxed despite the awkward position he found himself in. She had run it through hot water, obviously in an attempt to warm and loosen his protesting muscles. "Thank you," he said his voice muffled by the pillow. He lifted his face to look over his shoulder at her. 

"Not done yet," she said urging him to lay flat by pressing down on his back. Working methodically she ran her acupressure balls up and down the length of his legs. She kept doing it until she heard his breathing change from discomforted to relaxed. Then she put the balls aside and rubbed lotion on her hands. Normally she would have used oil but she didn't pack any. Starting with his feet, she pressed her thumbs in feeling out his knots. His groans and the dips and bumps she felt told her where to focus. As she travelled upward she felt the solid, marble-like muscles relax under her skilled hands and kept moving higher.

Steve seemed to have given himself over to her attentions after getting over the squeamishness of her handling his feet and from the lazy grin and the crease free forehead, she took it as a sign he was enjoying the massage.

She worked up the cramped leg until all the tension was gone and then pulled the bedcovers over to keep the loosened muscles warm. Then she started on his other leg. By the time she was done, he was like putty in her hands. 

She covered him completely and stood up. Before she could move to put away her things, his hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist. "No one's done that for me since I was a kid," he said softly. He rolled over and sat up. "Thank you."

"You're welcome and..."

She was going to say it was no big deal but suddenly being tugged into his lap, and his lips on hers stole the words from her mouth. She moaned happily against his lips, her eyes widening as she brushed up against the evidence of just how much he'd enjoyed her attention.

His hands in her hair and his tongue making the most of the fact she'd parted her lips in her surprise, she was helpless to stop the tide of desire that crashed through her. He turned them in the bed, pressing her into the mattress while his hand travelled down her side to her jeans. His nimble fingers popped the button above her zipper and her brain jumped back online. She tore herself away from his heady, passionate kiss and cover his questing hand with hers. "Steve, wait."

He immediately lifted the partial weight he'd rested on her and stopped trying to undress her. His chest was rising and falling quickly but if that wasn't sign enough for her at how lost in the moment he'd gotten, the tell tale red creeping over his ears did. He rolled away and ran a hand through his hair pulling at it slightly as he closed his eyes. "You're right. Sorry. I didn't ask and I just... I wouldn't have pushed. Chloe, I just wanted you to be more comfortable." He winced realizing how weak that explanation must have sounded.

Chloe took pity on him. She was just as responsible for things getting out of hand. "Steve, we are attracted to each other. Obviously," she said, in response to his raised eyebrow, are you kidding look? "But if any clothes come off we both know what's going to happen."

She didn't think he could get more embarrassed. And it dawned on her, he'd been in love with Agent Carter but they'd never gotten a chance to explore anything. But he'd been in his twenties when he had enlisted. The average age boys lost their virginity was 13. At least in her time. She had assumed. "Am I your... " Chloe smiled widely, in complete disbelief she was even thinking it, let alone about to say it. "Am I the first girl you almost got to second base with?" she asked her eyes dancing with amusement.

 

Steve looked up at her, his hair falling over his eyes as he ducked his head, watching her for any sign she would start laughing at him. "Yes."

Chloe almost did laugh at the boyish shyness in his expression but settled for kissing him instead. She held his face once she came up for air and Eskimo kissed him tenderly. "If you hadn't of said anything, I wouldn't have been able to tell. Your assertiveness and passion mask your inexperience but I'm not going to be a wild quickie for you to cash in your V card. It's their loss that none of those girls saw the man underneath. The serum might have filled you out, built you stronger and taller but it's all cosmetic. Steve, I find you attractive because of who you are. You care, you have strong principles and you stand firm, you respect women as equals and that's a rare, extremely sexy quality."

"But," he prompted glumly. There was always an excuse. Anyone Bucky had ever tried to set him up with quickly found a reason to dismiss or ignore him. He knew Chloe wouldn't do that, but she did seem to be working him to let him down gently. He stared at his hands. Those same fingers that only seconds ago had felt the creamy satin smoothness of her stomach. The memory of that sensation was now seared into his brain. No doubt to add further realism to his nocturnal fantasies. He startled at the touch of her hand on his chin, turning his face to hers. 

She kissed his lips, just a gentle brush. The exhale from her mouth tickling his moist bottom lip. The feeling stirred him to want to grab her and meld their mouths together properly but he waited. And watched her soft green eyes, that we're more Kelly green than the usually celadon hue, he took it as a good sign. Her eyes got a little darker after he kissed her, or when her emotions were high. It meant she wasn't unaffected by him. It meant she was just as emotionally compromised in this as he was.

"But I need to go slow. I jumped into a physical relationship once and it wasn't at all what I thought I needed or wanted."

Steve smiled at her, relieved she wasn't shutting him down. He could do patient. Slow was in a better category than, a sorry, no thank you. Or waiting so damn long that he missed his chance altogether. He frowned wondering if that's why he was diving in head first with Chloe. Subconsciously he was afraid he'd miss living by being caught up in waiting for the right time. Seeing Peggy now made him realize that life was too short to wait for a right time. What mattered was right now. "I know how I feel about you, Chloe. But I want you to feel the same. Slow will not be a problem for me," he kissed her forehead and got out of the bed. "I have to return the gear. I'll grab us dinner on the way back. Anything particular you fancy?" he asked pulling on his pants.

Chloe shook her head and watched him collect his keys and leave the room. Drawing her knees up, she rested her chin against them and wondered what she'd done to draw the attention of a man like Steve. And whether she could trust in him. Whether she could risk letting go and free falling, hoping and praying he wouldn't let her shatter or break. Physically he would never hurt her, she knew that without a shadow of doubt. Emotionally was a totally different ball game. People who had professed to love her, care about her had cut the deepest wounds. Some unintentionally, even unwittingly, others perhaps not maliciously - her mother left to protect her after all but her father had left to protect himself. And that hurt almost more than she had been able to bear. But Lois had been a pillar of support and Uncle Sam, as gruff and hard nosed though he might be was a big hearted teddy bear and fiercely protective of his family. She wiped at a stray tear that fell as she processed everything she felt for the ones she loved; Lois, Clark, Martha, Uncle Sam, Bart, her parents, even spoilt bratty Lucy. Her Justice crime fighting heroes. And there was her new friends, Phil and Maria... Now Steve. 

She wiped another tear from her cheek. Whether her brain was ready to accept it or not, truth was that Steve already had a piece of her heart. And it didn't matter how big, if she failed him and he left, the hole that he left behind would be just as painful as if she had given him everything.

Her emotions too heavy she realized she needed a distraction.

 

"Hey Lo, you wanted me to make an introduction? We can meet you halfway? I'll point him in the direction of Grams’ old homestead in Indiana. Be there by the end of the week."

 

::: ::: :::

 

There were many things that Steve got to learn about Chloe while they road tripped together. She was slow in the shower. If he didn't knock, she would end up using all the hot water. He was sorely tempted to join her but only had to remind himself he was giving her time to figure things out and to prove he was serious about pursuing a relationship with her. 

 

Chloe loved her coffee and she was very particular about it. She was a bit of a coffee connoisseur. Bad coffee could sour her mood for hours. He never made the mistake of trying to bring her a vending machine coffee again.

 

Her insightfulness had no limits. Three days in he was itching to move and she packed their things and suggested a town three hours away. She took him to a deceased estate sale. The deceased had served in the war. His house was full of junk but in his garage there was a run down but mostly in tact 1940s Indian motorcycle with a left hand throttle they had designed especially for combat riders. He'd almost blown their chances at buying it when he showed his hand. Chloe and her fast talking had saved them. She reasoned that it wasn't in good condition and it didn't even run. They could use cash right now to clean up the place if their plan was to sell the property. It was a mess and in disrepair. She would wire them the money on the spot if they would sell the bike for $1000. The siblings of the deceased, clearly not knowing the value of wartime memorabilia even in this state, which could be stripped for parts for other restorations had heard her figure and you could see the dollar signs in their eyes. Steve having heard her offer too wanted to tug her away but Chloe didn't budge. The more shrewd of the pair, the sister, had seen him looking it over earlier and decided to push her luck.

 

"Two thousand. As you said, we could use the money. This place won't clean itself. The waste collection we have booked cost $375, and we might not fit it all in one pick up."

 

Chloe folded her arms. "I'm not invested here. This is a gift for a friend. So $1300 and it's my final offer. He likes to build things, I could buy him a model set instead."

 

That got the woman backpedalling. "But how are you going to take it? It doesn't run." She didn't miss that they had rolled up on a motorcycle with no trailer in sight.

 

"Let me worry about that."

 

"You got yourself a pile of junk, honey. Deal."

 

He had tried to tell her to wire the funds from his account, he didn't even have a VISA card yet and they had promised the woman cash anyway but Chloe wouldn't do it. 

 

"If you're that heart set on squaring this deal, fix it up, we'll sell it to a collector and then you can pay me back. And if you decide to keep it, you can pay me back whenever. Steve, I read about the estate sale online and thought we'd see something interesting. I really didn't expect to find a diamond in the rough. I don't know much about motorcycles but I do know how much you like to tinker and how much this could be worth in working order with fresh coat finish. You'll make ten times what I paid at least. So quit worrying. It's a worthwhile investment."

 

How she knew that he had been working at a motorcycle repair shop while waiting for a mission to come up, or that he enjoyed building things was a mystery. He certainly hadn't told anyone about it and the only ones who knew that he'd built his own set of wheels during the war was Bucky.

 

He kissed her temple and climbed onto his bike, while she called a transport service to come collect their fixer-upper project and have it delivered to the garage he worked at in D.C.

 

Steve liked to sketch and Chloe, when she wasn't answering messages or reading files, liked to read historical romance. And she wasn't embarrassed to have him sneak peeks over her shoulder. She often asked him if certain things were historically accurate if the story was from his time. The oddness of her request in direct reference to his age didn't seem to occur to her. Or didn't bother her. The first time she'd asked him a question about the cost of things back then had thrown him but when she didn't seem to get how it should bother her too, he had forced himself to let it go. She was always casual about bringing up his past that eventually he found it easy to forget that she was even from a different time. Or that he was physically decades older than her even though his body didn't show it and his brain hadn't lived it. In waking years, Chloe was older and more knowledgeable than him on a wide variety of subjects and in their conversations it showed. No one ever gave them any strange looks when they were together, so he stopped worrying about what his peers would think about his cradle snatching and told his qualms to shut the hell up and enjoy the beautiful woman who had started smiling a lot more freely and touched him more readily too.

 

That was something else he'd been pleased to have discovered about the woman he was falling hard for. Chloe was a tactile person. She ran her fingers lightly over things. It was as though she was committing it to memory without sight. The first time she'd trailed her fingers over his back while he sketched, he'd shivered involuntarily and stopped what he was doing, basking in the riot of feeling she'd invoked. Startled by his reaction, she had pulled away. He promptly dropped his pencil and swept her into his lap to show her just how welcome she was to touch him anytime she wanted. He was glad he'd gone with his dramatic impulse because after that, she didn't hesitate to cosy up to him. He loved the weight of her body pressed up against his while they rode together, and the fact that she looped her arm through his while they walked. Before bed she would full body hug him, not even an inch between them while she kissed him goodnight. While it left him more than a little hot under the collar, the discomfort was more than worth it as her bedtime ritual gave him fuel for fantasies that made him both more hungry for her the next day while also giving him food for thought.

 

The wolf whistling of her cousin, Lois, when she'd caught them making out while attempting to make breakfast hadn't even embarrassed her enough to deter Chloe from sitting in his lap to eat rather than finding her own chair.

 

Lois. He was so thankful to have met her. Yes, she’d grilled him seven ways from Sunday and gave a serious, unblinking challenge that he broke first but she was also the most straight-shooting, brass tacks dame he’d ever met. Bucky would have loved her. 

 

Chloe bounded down the stairs in black shorts and a green halter top, and Steve had to forcibly remind himself to close his mouth. Where had she been hiding those clothes? He certainly hadn’t seen them before. He had to pinch himself and blink to keep from staring. 

 

“Guys, I’m going to town for a bit. Lo, I love you but we can’t live on Pop-Tarts and Hot Pockets, no matter how much you try to sell me on their nutritional value.” She pecked him on the cheek and then kissed his neck in that sensitive spot that always set him alight, and gave him a playful smile letting him know she knew exactly what she’d done, then left with a merry wave.

 

Lois’ rental was barely out of the driveway and Lois started on him. “You’re not what I expected, Cap.”

 

Steve tried not to feel offended. He waited for Lois to continue, because from her never ending ability to have something to say, he knew she wouldn’t leave it at that.

 

“I thought you’d be all stiff and just another uniform, all mission and no fun. Like my Dad. But you’re not. And I like that you make my cousin happy. Her smile. She hasn’t smiled like that in years.”

 

Steve felt his throat threatening to close when she told him that. If there was anything he could be proud of since waking, it would be that. If he could change someone’s outlook, make them see the world in a better light, have hope.. maybe he was reading way too much into her comment but he couldn’t help the bursting feeling in his chest. He wanted that for Chloe. He wanted her to hope for better things. To have faith in them. Together.

 

“Listen, I like you. My cousin gave up on a lot of dreams but something we always promised each other was that we would only marry our soul mates. She’s an old romantic at heart if you haven’t already noticed. She loves poetry, hand-written letters and flowers. Don’t forget birthdays or anniversaries, and she might say she hates surprises but I know she doesn’t. She’s not a big gifts kind of girl, something from the heart will always mean the world to her. I got her a flash bang for her 13th birthday, last I checked, she still has it. Claims she’s saving it for a rainy day. Honey, I’m sure she can dozens of them now. She never used it. I think she still has the taser I got her too. I’m digressing. Don’t screw this up okay. Break her heart and I’ll break your legs, and I really don’t want to have to explain that one to Dad.”

 

Steve had never met or read up on General Sam Lane, but from the respectful, affectionate tones Chloe and Lois used when they referred to him, Steve liked the man already. He wasn’t about to disappoint anyone in this family. Chloe was extremely important to him. And it seemed he had Lois’ approval. He couldn’t be happier.

 

He didn’t know why he brought it up, it was a random thought but he said it anyway. “Did you know that Chloe uses images in her Caller ID?” He still hadn’t worked up the nerve to ask about the Dorito thing, but he could hazard a guess that she’d seen how disappointed he was when the cafeteria had run out of the flavored corn chips. Those things had almost no nutritional value and were probably full of artificial additives but they tasted amazing. 

 

Lois smiled widely. “She’s so into this spy stuff. I guess I’m still Ace of Spades. Not that it’s a bad moniker. I can bluff slash dig myself out of anything,” she said proudly.

 

Steve grinned at her expression. “I have no doubt.” His eyes caught the bruise on Lois’ thumb that she’d gotten the day before when she’d missed the nail trying to hammer down a loose board on the aged back porch. “Can I ask you something?”

 

Lois took a sip of her coffee. “Hit me.”

 

Steve felt his eye twitch at her casual idiom. He needed to learn to roll with it though, he had to adapt or at least get comfortable with modern expressions and word usage if he didn’t want to always be seen as archaic. She had tried to hide it by restyling her hair, letting it curl instead of straightening it, but he’d noticed how quickly Chloe's head wound had healed. And there was no scar at all. He was happy about it, just curious is all. “Has Chloe ever been sick?”

 

Lois frowned. Noticing what had caught his eye and perhaps what had prompted his question, she drew her hand away. She hadn’t forgotten how her fatal stab wound had miraculously vanished and Chloe had been pronounced dead on arrival to Smallville Medical. Chloe hadn’t wanted to talk about it when Lois had found her hail and healthy at the Talon apartment later, and Lois understanding dawning from the terrified expression and anguish on her baby cousin’s face, hadn’t pressed. Part of her knew deep down that, that was the reason Chloe had left Metropolis to join S.H.I.E.L.D years ago. After all, if you can’t beat ‘em, and they’re not the enemy, join ‘em. And enemy of my enemy and yadda. Oliver and Clark had filled her in on what Lex was up to with experimentation on powered individuals. If anyone was equipped to keep Chloe safe and out of the hands of people like the Luthors it was S.H.I.E.L.D.

 

“Chloe has this way about her. People trust her. She’s probably played agony aunt to more people than I could count. She’s a Fort Knox. Don’t try to dig, Steve. If she can tell you, she will. Just remember that if you want her to keep your secrets, don’t expect her to share what isn’t hers to tell. As for what you're asking me, I don’t know the answers myself. All I can tell you is that she saved my life. And that I will always love her and protect her no matter what. With every breath in my body.”

 

At the fierce conviction in her eyes and the way her hands trembled, Steve felt tears burn behind his eyes. He had known love like that. He understood that instinct. And it reminded him all over again the pain of losing his best friend, and wishing he’d done more to try to save him. “I won’t hurt her, Lois. I promise you that.”

 

Seemingly satisfied, Lois stood and clapped him on the shoulder as she passed by. “Good.” She put her mug in the sink and planted her hands on her hips. “So just how good a shot are you?”

 

The rest of the afternoon they expended a lot of pellets taking out every bottle and can they could scrounge up to use for target practice. And wasted about a bushel of perfectly good apples too. His inner child was crying over the loss. Home grown, fresh baked apple pie would have been fantastic. Lois caught his lamenting and laughed. 

 

“Trust me, you don’t want me in the kitchen. Although Chloe’s not a half bad baker. Me, I just might test the recovery rate of your super metabolism.”

 

As Lois finished reloading and flicked her shaft into lock position. She put the handle to her shoulder and grinned. “One more round?”

 

Steve shook his head. “You go ahead.” 

The trek up to Vermont had been worth the numb behind and the stiff legs. Not only had he been the recipient of a fantastic rub down once they'd arrived but he’d gotten to meet Lois, who’d been welcoming and encouraging. He felt with Lois in his corner everything would work out in time. Chloe was a little more receptive every day. He didn’t mind the waiting. If anything, this pace suited him just fine. He wanted to learn all her cues, where she liked to be touched, the kisses she enjoyed the most, the different sighs he could pull from her and of course her smiles. There were nervous, shy smiles. The Lois smile, when her cousin said something particularly outlandish, the sleepy smile when she was valiantly trying to stay awake and covering a yawn. His favorite, and the rarest though, one that he took as a personal challenge to draw out more often, was an unreserved, eyes sparkling, cheeks slightly flushed, bright smile that left her biting down on the bottom corner of her lip, as though if she didn’t hold back at least a little, she’d be left with a permanent trenches in her cheeks from beaming so widely. He adored those smiles, and it was a shame he could still count them. The first time he’d seen her smile at him like that, he’d shown her a sketch he’d done of her when she had been reading by the window at a small B & B they’d stopped at on the way to Zionsville, Indiana from Colorado. She had looked at the drawing intently, taking in all the lines and shading he’d used to highlight her face and every wave in her hair, tracing it gently, carefully with her index finger. 

 

“It’s beautiful,” she said with awe in her voice. He caught the uncertainty there. As though she didn’t believe he saw her that way. That she could be the woman in the drawing.

 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and he meant it. Her answering smile had been breathtaking.

 

He was in love with her. And he wanted her to feel the same way. Whenever they took that next step in their relationship, he wanted her to be ready. And he wanted to be prepared to take care of her. For her to feel special. To make it special, memorable for them both. Something they could always cherish and keep as the first stepping stone for a lifetime of memories to share together. 

 

So the waiting wasn’t really waiting at all. He was learning her, and loving her a little more every day. He wasn’t afraid of living anymore. He didn’t regret surviving. Because even though the past still haunted him, and sometimes the doubts and fears threatened to drown him, he only had to look at her, and suddenly he could breathe just fine.


End file.
